July 13, 2025
Chosen by Wings
The birds greeted me at the pier this morning, and it felt like a reunion as much as a ritual. They don’t greet just anyone. They choose me—and I choose them back. I outstretched my arm and they took turns landing, hopping on and off like joy in motion. Clubby, brave and balanced on her single foot, is always among the first. She’s one of my originals, one of the first souls to pick me. Domino and Honey Girl—those three taught me how trust takes flight. When I first met Clubby, her foot was badly infected. But she’s a fighter. And I’d like to think the kindness I showed her helped a little. When she lands now, it feels like healing made visible. Honey Girl took her usual place on my shoulder. That little crooked walk never fails to bring me comfort. There’s something sacred in these routines. They lift me. They ground me. If you ever walk the beach and see string or fishing line—please pick it up. Their feet deserve better. Their joy is too precious to be injured by our carelessness. This morning gave me a boost. And we all need that—especially today.
Today's Gratitude
- Grateful for birds who choose me.
- For one-footed resilience and shoulder landings.
- For gentle acts that can change a life.
- And for mornings that remind me I’m never alone.
